Carting crates of beer from the neighborhood bar to parties in
his house, he drinks until he explodes in the most barbarous and
realistic wife beating even seen on a movie screen.

ONCE WERE WARRIORS

A Illusion review by Joan Ellis.

"Once Were Warriors" is a film of stunning power whose
brutality, beauty, and grace will sear your memory. It is a story
of some of New Zealand's Maori people, who have moved from their
heritage to the modern world, only to become stuck in poverty on
the outskirts of Auckland in the shadow of a billboard that
trumpets New Zealand's natural beauty.

In this settlement of friends, the Heke family--Jake, Beth,
and their five children--is mired in the alienation that comes
from belonging to neither world. They sing when they are happy,
they sing when they are drunk, and they are drunk much of the
time. Alcohol fuels their pleasure and their violence. "Our
people once were warriors, with pride and spirit," one says, and
now the pride is gone.

The liquor-soaked marriage of Beth (Rena Owen) and Jake
(Temuera Morrison) is the focus of this sad and savage story. On
the day he is laid off, Jake intensifies his drinking to cover
his rage at being a loser and to forget his miserable
surroundings. Carting crates of beer from the neighborhood bar
to parties in his house, he drinks until he explodes in the most
barbarous and realistic wife beating even seen on a movie screen.

Barely able to speak with her swollen throat, Beth fights
back with words that invite more violence. This woman's weapon is
language. She pokes and provokes Jake as she passes in and out of
resentment and resignation.

Long a willing participant in the culture of sex and
alcohol, Beth understands the depth of Jake's violence only when
it threatens her children, especially Grace, a sweet-hearted
storyteller who protects her younger siblings. "Our Grace hasn't
a violent bone in her body, but we've made sure it's all around
her," Beth says. When Jake's wrath has done its full damage, Beth
reaches for her Maori roots in a moving communion of old and new
cultures.

In very demanding roles, the Maori cast is uniformly and
entirely credible. Playing Beth, Rena Owen suggests Jeanne
Moreau, as she exudes a fierce intelligence that makes her every
thought and action unpredictable. Hers is a remarkable presence,
and she will surely be a major player in the films of this
decade. Mamaengaroa Kerr-Bell, as Grace, has a haunting
vulnerability along with a wisdom that renders her ageless.
Playing Jake, Temuera Morrison summons the awful, apt ability to
make the bitter man barbaric and tragic at once.

Drunken men singing their way to violence in fine harmony, a
proud woman reduced to pulp, gentle children destroyed by the
role of witness, two sons searching desperately for identity,
gentle Grace, monstrous Jake, and proud Beth: This film has a
ferocious resonance. It is devastating. If you are tempted to
skip it, as well you may be, ask yourself how long it has been
since a movie left an imprint on your soul.

Film Critic: JOAN ELLIS
Word Count: 499
Studio: A Fine Line Features release of a Communicado film
Rating: R 1h48m